spell a loss
by IveHadWorse
Summary: "She might have swore then...but she doesn't really recall. All she remembered was crowding over him, trying to draw his dwindling attention to hers, calling his name and stroking the side of his face. She heard the maelstrom of panic swell behind her, but it died out as she sharpened her focus to the man beneath her." Castle had faster reflexes this time. AU for "Knockout". ANGST.
1. Chapter 1

**Spell a Loss**

* * *

_Teach our bodies; haunt the cause_

_I was only trying to spell a loss._

**Bon Iver, "Calgary"**

* * *

The green-hued horizon of grass just beyond the crowd of black-clad attendees seemed to cut across the grey-blue sky above like a fissure. Were it not for the bill of her dress uniform's hat, the reflecting sun against the perfectly-manicured earth might have been too bright for the detective. Her eyes scanned the crowd, took in the tear-stained cheeks and battle-hardened faces of the members of this unfortunate club. The club of people who had lost someone they loved and respected; a club Kate had long since been a member of, but never wanted to initiate others into. She knew what it did to someone, what it would do to Montgomery's children, his wife. She knew the corruption that rooted inside someone whenever they were forced into membership.

"...and in the end the best you can hope for is to find a place to make your stand." She dropped her eyes to the cue-cards she'd prepared, taking the opportunity to strengthen her resolve to finish. Her eyes glanced over the following words, and she felt her heart tighten in her chest. "And if you're very lucky," she continued, her attention momentarily lost to the memory of a parking lot outside a helicopter bunker, against the side of a car, tightly locked in the arms of an unlikely savior. "You find someone willing to stand with you."

Her gaze settled briefly on the eyes of the man standing next to her, his blue irises in sharp relief against the expansive grey around him, like twin lighthouses in the tumultuous sea-sky. What a shitty day for a funeral.

"Our captain would want us to carry on the fight," Kate continued, her attention finally returning to the crowd before her as she concluded her eulogy. "And even if there is one -"

"Kate!"

The weight of him lands heavily atop her, knocking the breath from her lungs and making the edges of her vision blur. When her vision corrects itself, and she shoves uselessly at the man prone across her body, she feels her anger broil to the surface.

"What the fuck are you doing? Get off me!" she demands, shoving at his shoulders. He felt heavier the longer he lay atop her, and she wrestled from beneath him. When her torso was finally free, she angled on him and shoved him violently. "Are you insane?!"

When he didn't respond, her anger immediately dissipated. He barely huffed a breath when she pushed him onto his back. The sticky patch on his black collared-shirt visibly bloomed before her as the clouds above reflected off its shiny surface. She touched a gloved hand to the spot, and the white cotton came away crimson.

She might have swore then, for the second time in as many minutes, but she doesn't really recall. All she remembered was crowding over him, trying to draw his dwindling attention to hers, calling his name and stroking the side of his face. She heard the maelstrom of panic swell behind her, but it died out as she sharpened her focus to the man beneath her.

"Stay with me, Rick," she murmured, trying desperately to sound calm, noting the fear and panic widening his gaze. "Stay with me."

"Kate, I-"

"It's okay, Rick, you're okay." She could hear the heavy footfalls on the soft soil behind her. Help was on its way, one way or another. He just needed to stay focused on her for just a second longer.

A tear slipped down his temple into his hairline, and Kate wasn't sure if it was hers or his. She tried for a hopeful smile. "You're going to be okay."

"I love you, Kate."

Her breath stalled in her lungs, and her fingers tightened in the unruly tendrils at the back of his head. _Don't you dare._

"Don't. You're okay."

"Kate," he huffed out, his own breath stuttering in his chest beneath her. "I love you."

His eyes finally slipped closed, and she felt a sob wrench its way out of her throat leaving it sore and raw. She felt the formidable grasp of Esposito pull her backwards, fought against the strength of him, before collapsing shakily into his arms.

* * *

She leaned heavily against the wall of the hospital hallway, Kevin and Javier flanking her on either side, steely and strong as they waited for Martha and Alexis to return with news from the doctor. The doctor hadn't given her the choice to accompany them, but Kate hadn't tried to insist.

Whether it was from the lingering effects of the shock that had overcome her on the ride over to the hospital, or a complete lack of anything to say, Kate hadn't spoken a word since the cemetery. Ryan and Esposito had both offered to get her a coffee, or a bag of chips, but her head remained steadfastly angled to the ground without even a shake of her head in acknowledgement. She couldn't split her focus long enough to give them a response, when her thoughts were entirely stuck in those final moments on the cemetery lawn.

Only when she heard the doors of the hospital room open, and felt the air whoosh past her as Alexis Castle very nearly ran down the hall did Kate raise her head. Martha moved slowly through the doorway out to the awaiting group, which now to Kate's surprise included Lanie and her own father, Jim.

"They've taken him into surgery, they're trying to remove the bullet, but from the angle that it entered, they're worried it might have..." Martha took a fortifying breath before continuing. "They're worried it might have pierced his lung and that it might be rapidly filling with fluid." Once she finally finished, she practically collapsed onto the hallway bench, Ryan and Esposito quick to catch her and help her safely onto the seat.

Kate stared at the red-headed woman, uncomprehending her words. _They're worried it might have pierced his lung… filling with fluid._

Shit. That sounded serious.

How did they get here? How did _he _get here? He was a world-famous novelist, and she was just some cop. A cop who was marked for death. A cop whose unorthodox, _civilian_ partner was lying on a hospital gurney somewhere in this behemoth of a hospital with _blood filling his lungs_.

From a bullet meant for her.

This arrangement of events sounded like a farcical play, and not the savage reality she was spiraling in. She continued to stare at Martha Rodgers, half-expecting her to dramatically lift her eyes, turn her tear-soaked cheeks to the fluorescent lighting constantly humming above and whisper, "Scene."

Kate doubted actors ever really said that to end an audition or scene-study, but how would she know? She'd have to ask Martha sometime.

When her son wasn't dying because he tried to save Kate.

Her head fell back to its harsh angle and the muscles of her back protested sharply, but Kate did nothing to give them relief. If anything, she held her neck more rigidly, forcing the muscles to work harder, cry louder. She felt a hand slide to her shoulder. Too small to be one of the boys, or her father. The gentle squeeze at her shoulder was a welcomed massage to her quickly fatiguing muscles.

"Kate," Lanie murmured. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine," she stated mechanically. Even Kate, who was an expert at lying to herself, heard the disingenuous words for what they were.

Lanie stabbed a sharp finger into her ribs. "Fuck, Lanie!"

"You were shot at; you are not fine."

"Compared to Castle, at the moment, I'm right as rain," she spat back bitterly. "He shouldn't have been there."

"Roy was his friend, too, Kate. I know you're angry with yourself and –"

"What I'm angry about," she asserted pointedly, interrupting the medical examiner, and finally turning her eyes to glare coldly at the woman, "is the fact that a civilian was shot at a police captain's funeral. A _civilian_ who's been playing cop, and who thought it was his responsibility to take a bullet for me." By the end her tone had hardened, strengthened by the ire and adrenaline coursing steadily through her veins.

"He's your partner."

"No, Lanie," she sighed sadly, dropping her head once again. "He's not. He's just a writer."

"Kate!" Lanie gasped, horrified. "Girl, imma –"

"He told me he loved me."

"What?" The air in Lanie's lungs was all gone, expelled in one violent whoosh against Kate's cheek.

"He doesn't really, obviously," Kate assured her friend resignedly. "Deathbed confessions don't exactly hold up in court for a reason. Besides, if he really loved me," she continued, the words muttered seemingly to herself, "he wouldn't have put himself in danger like that. You don't die in front of someone you love."

"Kate, you can't possibly –"

"Kate?!"

The two women on the hallway bench turned at the panicked voice down the hall, the detective rising to stare dumbly at the approaching figure.

"Oh my God, Kate," he moaned, as he wrapped his arms around her. Kate stood still in his embrace, for a moment, before her hands rose to grip his scrubs tightly. "I just heard what happened as I came on shift. Babe, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." This time it sounded less like a lie, but no less dejected at the fact.

"Jesus, love, how did this happen at a funeral? Who was it?"

She didn't say anything. She didn't know how to explain it. Josh's rapid-fire questions were muddling the already unstable foundation of her sanity, and any answer she provided would rock it off its weak kilter. Because the truth of it was insane: A_ civilian_ was shot because of her_. Castle_ was shot because of her.

"It was Castle," she heard Lanie whisper behind her. She felt Josh's arms tighten just that little bit more.

"I'm sorry, babe. I know he was your friend."

"He's not dead!" she shouted as she violently shoved at him, freeing herself.

"I didn't mean to imply –"

"Where are we on the shooter?" she snapped, as she pushed past her boyfriend, moving with determined strides to stand by Ryan and Esposito, who had now left Martha in the careful care of Kate's father. Her father held the woman against his side, and his eyes stared rigidly forward; a stalwart sentry when it was needed.

"We're working on it." Esposito's voice cut through her thoughts. "No one at the funeral saw anything," he stated flatly. He sounded bitter, like he was disappointed that at an event swarming with cops, no one saw anything. _He _never saw anything.

"Attendees thought they saw someone fleeing the scene, groundskeeper maybe," Ryan offered, trying to dispel the tension from his partner. "Unis sweeping the scene recovered the weapon, but there weren't any prints."

"No prints?" Kate asked dumbly. The adrenaline from her confrontational conversation with both Lanie and Josh had deserted her.

"He did leave it behind, after all," Ryan said, reaching to grip her shoulder and give it a comforting squeeze. "We didn't really expect him to make that kind of rookie mistake."

"Yeah, well, our guards were done. Talk about a fucking rookie mistake," Esposito muttered.

"Why don't you go home, Beckett?" Ryan said kindly. "We'll hold the fort tonight. Update you as soon as we know more."

"Not happening, Kev," she replied sharply. "In fact, I need you both to take Martha and Alexis – where did she run to?"

"She's down the hall; I can see Lanie with her now," Espo responded, pointing in the direction where the doctor was hugging the teen to her, stroking her hair comfortingly as Alexis's shoulder shook with violent sobs. Kate returned her attention to the boys; the sight proving to be a kill-shot of its own to her resolve.

"Take Martha and Alexis home," she continued. "Stay with them tonight, and I'll call you when I hear something."

"Beckett."

"Kate." They spoke simultaneously, but Kate couldn't hear their beseeching tone over the now thunderous pulse in her ears.

"Don't make it an order," she fired back, her left hand going to her ear to try and stave off the pounding. This headache was coming on strong and fast, and she needed to sit down in quiet. The two men didn't attempt to speak again, simply turning away to take care of Castle's family.

She returned to her bench, falling a bit unsteadily to the seat, but Josh's hand shot out and caught her elbow to cushion the descent. He sat beside her once she was settled.

"I spoke with the attending, and they got someone to cover my shift under the circumstances," he said after a long while.

"What circumstances are those?"

"The ones where my girlfriend was involved in a shooting at funeral," he answered, gaping a little incredulously.

"I told you, I'm fine," she gritted out.

"It's done," he stated firmly. "We'll wait here to hear back from Michaels about the outcome."

He was strong against her, the press of his body along her own gave her a modicum of comfort, but it was enough. She watched as Espo and Ryan finally convinced Alexis and Martha to go home with them, Jim trailing after them with a backwards glance at his daughter. She gave him a reassuring, albeit shaky, smile and a tiny wave and he returned it somberly. There was understanding in his eyes, and a level of sadness for her that Kate was momentarily winded by.

Alexis glanced back, as well, but her gaze was cold and unwaveringly bitter. Kate dropped her head again immediately. She knew she had fucked up to an unforgivable degree.

It would be even more unforgivable if Alexis joined her club today.

* * *

Castle would make a full recovery.

Though the statement was of little comfort to Kate; he was still unconscious.

In a medically-induced coma, for healing, apparently.

She had called Espo right away, telling him to pass the news on to Castle's mother and daughter. He had proclaimed her dead to him if he came back with Castle's family to find her still there. If she wasn't at home, getting necessary levels of rest, he would delete her contact from his phone and ask for a transfer.

Espo was more dramatic than Martha Rodgers at times, but the message was received nevertheless. She didn't even get to finish asking Josh before he was standing up, and offering her his hand.

When they arrived at her apartment half-an-hour later, she was nearly dead on her feet. She had been up since 5:30 the morning of the funeral, and it was almost 9 AM the following day. She dragged her feet through her apartment, and collapsed atop her bed fully-clothed.

Josh followed in behind her, and with a gentle nudge convinced her to roll on to her back. He untied her dress-shoes, and pulled them from her tired feet. He reached for the buttons on her top, and began undoing them slowly until her shirt gaped open at the front. Kate didn't seem to comprehend the man in front of her. All she could see was the grey sky of the morning before, and a man whispering that he loved her.

When she glanced down to see hands undoing the button of her uniform pants, she noted sadly that the dimensions of these hands were nothing like the ones she wanted. The thick, long digits from her imagination gave way to slender, precise fingers. Perfect for a surgeon, but not the ones she wanted undoing her pants.

But Kate liked things uncomplicated, sometimes. So she didn't protest when Josh's hands continued to disrobe her until she lay in only her bra. Her underwear was folded along with her dress uniform and placed carefully on the chair in front of her vanity. His hands slowly roamed the contours of her legs and torso, rubbing soothingly away the tension held in the muscles there.

Kate closed her eyes.

_I love you, Kate_.

She took in a deep breath, and held it while the memory of his voice flickered on repeat in her mind. She expelled the air from her lungs slowly, as the roaming hands slowly inspired an unfurling heat to quicken her pulse. She felt an ache, a wanting between her legs, and the not-thick-enough fingers slid up to caress the width of her hips. A ghost of what she really wanted.

_I love you, Kate_. The words continued to play in her mind, blissfully free of visual reminders of where those words were said.

"Open your eyes, love," Josh murmured above her. Kate shook her head loose of the memories. What the fuck was she doing? She opened her eyes, bringing herself back to reality, away from the voice echoing in her head. Josh gazed down at her with so much adoration, his eyes dilated with lust. "I'm so glad you're okay."

I'm not, she thought. Her being okay meant Castle wasn't. What a ridiculously horrifying equation. But she quickly dispelled those thoughts before she could voice them. She knew what Josh was getting at, what he needed from her in this moment. He needed to be reassured that she was really okay, that she was really fine. Her body, warm and pliant beneath his was serving this purpose, and acrimony at her current circumstances was too cruel to unload on him.

Let him have this. Maybe he could reassure her, too.

She felt him at her entrance, hard and ready. She gave a slight nod, and felt him push beyond the barrier or her body, felt him slide into her with ease. They had always been good at this, but it provided no reassurance or comfort this time. But she would still let him have this. She wasn't always as selfish as Castle sometimes made her feel.

Her muscles clenched at the thought of him, and it was with no small level of disgust. She was once again thinking of another while she was with someone else, _her boyfriend_. She was disgusted with herself.

_I love you, Kate_.

Leave me alone, her thoughts cried out. I can't do this with you in my head.

But the memory was persistent, and after a long moment of resistance, she finally gave in to the unbidden memory. _I love you, Kate_.

Her pulse began to hum loudly, and she closed her eyes around a gasp. She kept them tightly shut, and allowed herself to imagine it was him with her then; as though his words were washing over her in this moment, rather than over a day ago on green grass turned red. She imagined his thickness filling her, and she clenched around it. Her pulse was a sonic-boom in her ears now, as she neared the precipice. She imagined it was his grunts of exertion in her ear, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust sharply inside of her.

_I love you, Kate._

She came hard around the pulsing hardness inside her, and her horrified tears spilled over the side of her eyes, down her temple and into her hair. She was a horrible person.

She couldn't even just give Josh this, without selfishly turning it into something she wanted.

* * *

This is my first fanfiction for this fandom, but by no means my first fanfiction. It's been a long time since I've felt truly inspired – and to be fair, this fandom has some amazing writers that I would much rather read their work than write my own. But I also feel like I now have something to contribute. I hope you see it the same way.

So if you'd like to see more of this, I'm game. Otherwise, it can stand here on its own as an AU Character-Study for Beckett.

I hope you enjoyed this and while I'm sure the Josh bits aren't exactly a fan-favourite, I hope you saw them as necessary for understanding where Beckett's mindset is (and will be, should we move forward with this). I assure you, should this continue, Josh will play a minimal role (if at all). This fandom for me has been, and always will be, about Caskett.


	2. Chapter 2

**There is no justifiable excuse why this chapter took so long to post. I am terribly sorry. There are no excuses for leaving it this long. I have an awful time keeping up with WIPs, but know that this story is always in the back of my mind even if I'm not posting on any regular schedule. This story means too much to me to leave it incomplete, so bear with me; it may not get updated with any frequency, but I'm still working on it. If you're still in this with me, leave it on alert and you will see it updated from time to time. **

**Thank you, to everyone still reading this and enjoying it. I write it for you as much as for me.**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

"He's awake, Katherine."

Her hand tightened around the cellphone, her grip squeezing in time with her suddenly increased heart rate.

"Is he—"

"He's asking for you," came the joyful response. "Oh, Katherine, he looks good. He's even making jokes, if you can believe that."

"Of course he is, Martha," she replied, a ghost of a smile threatening to split into a grin as she imagined him propped up in his hospital bed holding court.

It was quiet down the line as the two women listened to each other breathe in their collective relief. Beckett though again, for what could only be counted as the thousandth time in the past three days, of the last time she had seen him.

She shook her head to rid herself of the bleak thoughts and returned her attention to the still remarkably quiet woman on the other end.

"I'm on my way, Martha; I'll be there as soon as I can."

With a grandiose, albeit happy and excited acknowledgement, the older woman disconnected the call. Beckett paused and considered the state of her desk. His case-file lay around her, occupying unused chairs from across the bull-pen, pulled up around her like siege towers in her newly constructed fortress. She had been sat like this since around four that morning, when she had slunk away from her apartment with her boyfriend still asleep in her bed. She hardly paid him a glance as she dressed and left for the precinct.

Beckett captured the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, glancing from screen captures of traffic cam footage atop a chair to her right, to the stack of witness testimonies laid across her desk phone. The only unoccupied surface was the well-worn brown chair to the left of her desk.

Beckett's gaze settled heavily on the grooves and valleys of his chair. She felt sick at its vacancy, knowing it would sit empty for some time. Taking a deep, fortifying breath she reached for her jacket, for a time successfully locking away that path of thought.

He's awake, she thought with no small amount of pleasure. She could worry about the rest later.

* * *

"I think it's safe to say that Bon Jovi's 'You Give Love a Bad Name' will forever hold new meaning." He concluded his declaration with a voice-roughened rendition of the song's opening lyrics.

"_Shot through the heart!_"

His enraptured audience broke out into genuine laughter, more than a few heads shaking in amusement.

"Dad," his daughter groaned, but her smile belied her annoyance at the man lying in the hospital bed.

"Come to think of it, didn't they have a song called, 'Shot Through the Heart'?"

"Bro," Esposito interjected, "you know way too much about Bon Jovi."

Castle coughed out a chuckle, his throat a little dry. He reached gingerly for the paper cup on his bed tray and took an equally careful sip.

"Well," came the deep, yet feminine rumble, familiar to him from anywhere in time or space. In this instance, it was the doorway of his private room. "I find it hard to believe he can relate too greatly to their every-man-rebel lyrics. One could hardly call you an 'every-man', Castle."

His eyes drank her in, took note of her slightly rumpled appearance that still managed to be gorgeous. His grin radiated joy as he watched her move slowly into the room from her perch against the door sill. He schooled his features, pretending to consider her comment seriously.

"This is true," he began, his eyes twinkling with barely contained amusement. "But I think it's fair to say I can relate remarkably well to Bon Jovi's 'lovelorn-Romeo' motifs."

Her pleased grin faltered for just a moment, before securing back in place.

"Two marriages would make you something of an expert, Castle," Ryan chuckled.

"Well," he replied, his eyes staying on Kate, "they do say third time's the charm."

He saw her throat bob as she swallowed and he tried not to jump to conclusions before they had a proper chance to talk. He knew she would have something to say about his rather inopportune confession, but he was determined to stay the course now that everything was out in the open.

Alexis cleared her throat subtly. Her eyes implored him to dispel the awkward air that had briefly settled around them all. She looked increasingly uncomfortable as Beckett came to stand beside her, and Castle noticed his daughter's posture stiffened and angled away slightly from the detective.

Castle coughed an 'ahem' to clear the tension, before allowing himself an especially charismatic, almost unctuous grin. Gesturing to the walls of the hospital room, he chuckled, "But who'd want to get married when they could spend their days in this oasis?"

The room erupted into gentle laughter, even Kate felt her own tension loosen. He was going to be okay; she could see that now.

* * *

"Last one, I swear."

"You said that twenty-minutes ago," she groaned.

"This time, I'm sure." His eyes danced across her features as she brought her hands up to rub across her forehead, feigning the grief of a headache as she turned equally feigned bemusement in his direction.

"Fine," she murmured. He nearly squealed in excitement. And probably would have, she thought, if pain didn't burn through him every time he breathed too deeply.

_I'm so sorry, Castle._

"Okay, I need to make this a good one, if it's my last…" His eyes scanned about the room for inspiration.

"Oh, oh, okay! Patrick Stewart, uh… Batman! Aaaand… ehn, Chelsea Handler."

"Chelsea, who?"

"You know, that blonde late-night talk-show host that you practically sent flowers to when she made fun of my use of 'Quatrain' in _Heat Rises_."

"Right… Marry."

"Really?" he gasped, his hand rising very gently in mock indignation.

"We clearly find the same things ridiculous and unromantic, so, you know," she grinned, "match made in Heaven."

He scowled at her, but his eyes gleamed with mirth.

"While I think that may be the silliest reason to marry someone," he ignored her amused scoff of 'you'd know', "I accept. Continue."

"Sex with Patrick Stewart and kill Batman."

"Beckett!"

"What?" she glared, clearly unimpressed with his cry of incredulity.

"You would _kill_ Batman?!" At her shrug, he sputtered, "But you and he have the same origin story!"

She raised one eyebrow, but shrugged again. "I had to pick, and there's something sexy about Patrick Stewart I can't define."

"Well," he began easily, the early makings of a smug grin pulling at his mouth. "You clearly have a thing for older men."

"I—wha—"

"Thought I heard your voice," rumbled the deep timbre of a voice from the doorway. Kate turned sharply around from her perch in the seat beside Castle's bed.

"Josh." She gulped down a momentarily panicked gasp. "You scared me."

Josh's easy smile didn't reach his eyes, but it stayed on his face as he took in the two before him.

"Sorry," he looked properly chastened, though amused. "Didn't realize you were here; thought you were still at the precinct until I heard your voice."

"Yes," she straightened nervously. "Well…" Her eyes gestured towards Castle, who for his part hadn't let the doctor's abrupt entrance mar his jovial mood too substantially. Must be _some_ morphine, Beckett thought.

"Of course," Josh chuckled as he turned his attention to Castle. "How're you feeling?"

"Like, I've been shot," he deadpanned. Beckett shifted uncomfortably and her jaw clenched tightly, successfully restraining the burgeoning guilt from roiling in her stomach with nausea. "But the company is second to none."

Kate's watery gaze met his steady, pleased eyes and she swallowed hard to keep her emotions in check.

"Couldn't agree more!" Josh laughed. "Hey, babe," he murmured as he put his arm gently around her shoulder. Kate subtly tried to shrug it away as she caught the slight darkening of Castle's eyes.

_I love you, Kate._

Her stomach churned at the combined memory and the feel of Josh's heavy arm across her shoulder. Her earlier movements had been too subtle to dislodge him, but he did move away now to get a better angle on her face.

"He's going to be fine, Kate," Josh continued, concern coating his gentle utterance.

When she didn't reply, he took a tentative step away, dropping his arm back to his side.

"Anyway," he sighed, shoving his hands a little indelicately into his pristine lab coat. "See you tonight?"

"Um," she glanced sharply at Castle before stepping towards her boyfriend. She lowered her voice, marginally, for privacy when she readdressed the doctor. "I'm, uh, going back to the precinct tonight."

His posture straightened dramatically and when he spoke, there was a coolness to his voice Kate had heard before. Usually it was used when discussing her numerous hours at work, so she was unfazed when he all he said was, "I see."

With a controlled but not unpleasant nod to Castle in the hospital bed, Josh turned and left the room. Kate looked after him, sighing heavily before she returned her attention to Castle.

His vaguely expectant, puppy-dog interest greeted her and she plastered on an exaggerated smile.

"So, yeah, marry Chelsea; screw Patrick; kill Batman."

Castle held her stare, his expression darkening as their gaze stayed strong, but she didn't crack and, for once, he didn't push.

* * *

_For those of you who may be concerned about Beckett's characterisation, let me leave you with this: Beckett is a deeply complex character with insecurities too numerous to count and this story, at the very least, is a character-study of that. _

_No one said it better than Castle when he stated that she could be happy, but she chooses to hide in nowhere relationships with men she doesn't love. The truth is, Beckett does hide in her relationship with Josh, but another truth is that we don't know what she was like in that relationship. We never got to see it play out with any significance on the show and it's hardly mentioned again after her speech in 'Rise'. We know what she's like now, with Castle, now that she's truly in love, but we have no idea what she was like with Josh. I don't believe she was in love with Josh. I do believe she hid in that relationship because Beckett is the type that prefers a relationship with no pressure or commitment, so that when it inevitably ends, she can say it was what she wanted since she had so little invested in it to begin with. Beckett allows herself that vacation from reality because the rest of her life relies on her being entirely in control and emotional-investment strips a bit of that control away, potentially affecting her life outside of it. Castle is dangerous to that delicate balance. As obtuse as she pretends to be when it comes to her feelings for him, she knows that Castle has at least the potential to be it for her and it scares her. The level of pain that results from a loss of that kind of permanent love would unmake her and it seems Beckett fears nothing more than emotional pain. She fears an end to something with Castle, ignoring the part where it could be wonderful with him, too. This story endeavours to explore how she gets from that mentality to a stable place where she can dive into it with him, while in the emotional landscape of him taking a bullet for her._

_I don't profess to have her all figured out - sometimes I think even the Castle writer's don't have her entirely nailed down yet - but I do love discussing her. If you want to engage further in my characterisation of her, please PM me. I welcome all thoughtful debate on the subject._

_Also, I'm on **tumblr**:_ **icancounttog****  
**


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